This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

Shouldn’t standards be higher for those trusted to enforce our laws?
Instinctive desire to ‘do something’ almost always leads to bad policy
Whatever you’re doing for Fourth, have a safe and happy holiday
Words of appreciation can have power to connect us and heal us
A heart that’s open to love can lead you to unexpected places
We all love stories, but principles should trump anecdotes in debate
In spite of the ridiculous imagery, I still want to rescue my princess